


What she brought with her

by Starr_Reborn



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Because I said so that's why, Drabbleish, Every Kryptonian does you can't tell me they don't, Gratuitous use of super senses, Kara's bad at being Human, Kara's gonna have an accent, Not a bad person but not endlessly giving everyone every part of her, Seriously Kara's mad at Clark, She knows what kryptonite is, She's infinitely amused by humanity, She's not a hero, Supergirl? More like Superbuff, Supergirl? More like Supermad, Supergirl? Pshaw that's boring, There will be More things and people but it's slow I'm writing it as i watch the show what's up, Yup i did another drabble in a new fandom FIGHT ME, but still a nice person cuz she's Kara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-05-23 10:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14932281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starr_Reborn/pseuds/Starr_Reborn
Summary: The worst thing might be how wrong Mother had been. There is no rest to be had in the Phantom Zone.Or,Kara's kinda morally gray but that's ok too.





	1. Shameful

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who started watching Supergirl??? Yeah so I'm enjoying it and some of the fights are a little campy but I'm REALLY REALLY enjoying it. it's fun and Alex and her best sisters and I haven't even met Lena yet hrrrmmmphhh I'm so ready for it all.

_She Does Not Sleep._

* * *

He looks like his mother like his father. He looks like family. He looks older than her by years too many years and something quiet and cold wonders how long she's been drifting how how how  _how long!?_

"Kal-El?" And she is startled by the sound of her own voice.

It's been ages since she's spoken.

He speaks to her first in a language she does not know. And then Kryptonian, broken and heavily accented. And it. It hurts. Because she knows his face his eyes that chin and jawline she knows them knows them all and. He's wearing the family crest and the most beatific smile she's seen in years and it  _hurts_.

Who is this man wearing the features of her family, the crest of her blood? Who is he and why can't he understand when she asks  _how long how long how long?_

* * *

He wants her to live a normal human life. Like the one he had.

He smiles when she asks why and his dimples only remind her of  _Them_. He smiles with  _Those_  dimples but they aren't  _Those_. He smiles and it's as though the answer should be obvious and she is but a child, a sweet innocent warm soft funny little thing. As though dread and darkness and the image of her dying world have not been her companions for so so many years.

**Twenty four.**

* * *

The people he takes her to look startlingly Kryptonian but they, too, speak that garbled language. She knows it's a language only by the cadence of it. It isn't nonsense isn't babble they're speaking but she's not she's not she's NOT one of them, not human not whatever part or sect of humanity they belong to and shouldn't they know that?

Kal-El tells her they'll help. Or actually he says something like,  _They me help you also strength_.

It's. It's disgusting and slightly insulting but mostly mostly it's just disappointing. Heartbreaking.

And then he  _leaves_.

She trembles and shakes and she asks begs,  _Where are you going why are you going stronger together Stronger Together!_  And he just  _leaves_. Like it's nothing like she hadn't drifted for twenty four years, like like. Like the crest he wears is just a meaningless squiggle.

And she feels  _betrayed_.


	2. Extraordinary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara is not a Danvers. Not now, not yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't, and for that matter, Kara doesn't think humans have been around as long as the brief mention of them might have you believe. It's just a general comparison that she's way too physically young and mentally old to look at the world without thinking of it and it's people as children.

Earth is as young as it's sun, as young as it's people. Draped in greenery and dappled by color, positively glowing and breathing beneath the pale yellow light that fills her with  _something_. Energy vigor determination strength fortitude - it makes her feel warm and powerful and wonderful like she hasn't in so long.

And yet it all still fails to fill her with that affection, that same sense of home like Rao's red hues had. So Earth is beautiful but she doubts it'll ever feel like it's anything more than acceptable.

* * *

Her name is Alleks and she approaches warily.

Alleks tries to communicate and not for the first time she wishes that blast hadn't knocked her off course, hadn't damaged the systems on her pod that were supposed to prepare her. She feels illiterate, stupid. Things she is decidedly not, things she will NOT allow herself to be.

She attempts to communicate back. And.

And somehow that's just it. This Alleks takes to her with a laugh and a grin and, more than her hovering parents, it's a comfort. The first in...

* * *

She is a true Daughter of Krypton and she lives in her studies for the first two months. She will  _learn_  she will  _know_  this planet and its fragile populace.

The Danvers Collective are good to her and she is grateful, and still she burns when she sees The Crest. It's  _everywhere_. On cups and decorative plates, shirts hats under garments.

_Under. Garments._

How thankful she can only be that Kal-El abandoned her to the Danvers. And how much actual hate can she swallow that he tainted their,  _Her_ , crest. A most ancient and noble house, all but extinct, and he let it's coat of arms become a marketing tool for humans.

Betrayal runs deep, burns and slices and she swallows it all and pretends she isn't fit to burst with the might of her fury. And so she funnels it all into her studies until she can communicate and, though Alleks laughs without ill intent as she struggles through this soft, backwards language, she does it.

She succeeds.

* * *

"Alleks, when will I receive proper training?" she likes the elder Danvers' well enough but Alleks is truthful and honest in a way that only the youthful can be.

"Err-"

"Like my," Ahh, the words, there are so many of them. She does not like English. "My uncle, ah, his child?" She is upset with him, his lack of respect for their family, their culture. He flies around and saves lives with that charming, dimpled smile like he is not haunted, like he cannot hear the cries of the dead.

Because he cannot, because he is not. Because he is no Son of Krypton. Because he is more born of this Earth and it's breakable inhabitants.

"You, uh. You're going to live with us as a normal human-"

"But I am not. I am," the words the words the words what are they!? "God."

"You're an alien." Alleks is right but not, also. These humans, sweet and soft and naïve, make her feel like something ancient and primordial. Like a forsaken God from a forgotten religion. But she nods to agree though her face must twist like she doesn't.

"Yes. My training?"

"I don't think," Alleks begins slowly, as though this is still her first day and she struggles to interpret even the simplest words. "Training is on the table?"

Alleks poses it like a question and she did not think any training would take place on a table. All those in the home are very breakable.

"Outside would be best," and she says this as slowly as Alleks had said her piece and still Alleks seems cautious. "No tables to break."

Alleks winces and there's a thought. One of those cold quiet ones spoken in a voice that might be her own, high and girlish with youth but an angry bitter hiss nonetheless -  _And hadn't He wanted her to live a human-like life?_

"There will. Be no training?" She wonders and Alleks winces again, swallows once, and nods twice. Sharp little nervous jerks. Because she can crush their bones and Alleks knows it, though she's nearly offended the girl would assume she might in this instance.

She's not a child, though she might look it. These powers are strange and at times overwhelming but she stays aware of herself and of them.

"No," Alleks says and sighs and does look truly sorrowful. "No, you won't receive training."

* * *

But she is no human. She is no  _Clark Kent_. She is the last True Daughter of Krypton and she will be extraordinary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also there might be one more chapter of her early days, in fact there will be at least one more, before I get to make her an adulting adult hope y'all enjoy waaaaiiiitiiing. Cuz honestly Cat Grant is my MF hero and she's gonna be Kara's too not even gon lie.


	3. Kill Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara might feel like an adult, occasionally she might even act like one, but she's still very capable of being a bit of a hormonal brat.
> 
> Or,
> 
> Kara doesn't take No for an answer and gets way too emotional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Kara a lot, she's one of the few characters in any fictional world that I haven't disliked for being a genuinely super duper nice person - though my only other comparison is Snow White from OUaT and she's a fucking hypocrite like somebody kill her already Jesus - but on the OTHER hand like, damn she has so many reasons to be a little shit.

"I would like to practice my strengths." She speaks at dinner, in a lull of their conversation. She's getting better at it, understanding them when they speak casually. Slang is.  _Difficult_. But she manages.

And besides having the courtesy to inform the Doctors, she'd like to include Alleks.

"Kara-"

"You can't-" There's a pause wherein the Doctors' Danvers exchange a look and then,

"It's too dangerous!"

"You might get caught!"

And still, she waits further. Alleks has yet to voice her opinion though the way her face twists shouts that she'd love to. And yet she hesitates, chews her lip and drops her eyes.

"Alleks?" She isn't certain why they all pause. She hadn't spoken particularly loudly but, ah, perhaps it's a respect they have for her? She appreciates it, them, in this moment. She is grateful to That Human she shares the barest hint of blood with for leaving her with them. "What do you think?"

Her eyes are nervous things, flicking between her mother and father. Tongue sweeping over lips, lashes fluttering like caffeinated spiders against her cheeks.

"I..." None of them interrupt her and perhaps that's where her confidence to continue comes from. She takes in a sharp breath and her eyes, flashing glaring defiant eyes, cut up to her parents, "Kara can  _touch the stars_. Not for any reason but who she is... I don't. I'm not certain it's our decision, our right, to tell her she can't..."

And she shrinks away under the stares, fiddling a fork into her dinner once more. Humans communicate almost more nonverbally than they do with their words. For such a simple sort of people their languages are incredibly complex.

And so she squeezes as delicately as she can the hand she lays her own upon, hoping only that the look she levels upon the girl is as thankful as she genuinely feels.

"Now what I want you all to consider is that I do not  _require_  your permission. I would like to practice my strengths, and so I will. With or without your help."

* * *

Kryptonian hearts beat slowly than human hearts. She would know she can hear it. In meditative states and when they sleep it's something similar but they're still fragile, fluttering things beneath the ribs.

So finding Clark Kent amongst a city of humans is only so difficult as the will it takes to focus until she catches the slow strong beat of his heart, so like her own. There's a part of her filled with bitter resentment, it burns like bile on the back of her tongue, twists her face into a sneer. And that's just thinking about him, listening to his heart. She doesn't want to face him.

But she has questions the Danvers are afraid to answer.

"Kal-" she catches herself in time to stop his full,  _true_ , name from slipping past her snarling lips. " _Clark Kent._ " She barks out instead. "I need to speak with you.  _Now!_ " He makes no sound, his heart does not pick up but she knows she  _knows_  he's heard her.

And if it's a matter of time and patience she's more than plenty of both to spare.

He finds her shortly and there's something stern about his look, something stern and simultaneously nervous.

"Kara, you shouldn't be here." He hazards on English. And it shouldn't but that just  _annoys_  her.

"Do the humans have the means to hurt us?" for his sake and the physical body he possesses that would have him think he were older, she phrases this as a question.

"Kara-"

"I have a right to know." He's trying to be careful but that's more suspicious. He all but confirms it with,

"...And if they do?"

" _You don't know me to distrust me, Cousin._ " It's fierce angry and an accidental slip into what's more or less a dead language. Only she speaks it. Clark's toddler gibberish doesn't count.

"Did you give it to them?"

"No-"

"But you know of it and allowed them to keep it." He's beginning to get frustrated and this is good, is her goal.

"What are-" he sucks in a sharp breath that whistles past his teeth, eyes narrowing. "You're insinuating I'd give them the means to, what, end me?"

"Us. And yes. Prove me wrong?"

"Oh, so, what, you think I flew out into space to pull in chunks of rock to the nearest scientist, 'Oh gee, doc, this space rock sure does make my skin itch!?'"

_Space rock skin itch-_

"They have kryptonite!" It's a breathy gasp. Too shocked to be as angry as she should. But that can change very quickly. "They have kryptonite and you  _let them keep it!?_ " She's floating before him, so she's at the perfect level to grab fistfuls of his business attire to drag him closer to demand, "What kinds?"

"You  _know_  what kryptonite is?" She could almost slap him.

" _What kinds_ , Clark?!"

"R-red and green! And, well, blue and gold, and probably more- Kara?"

She'd let him go, drifting back. Numb and boneless and weightless. When her feet touch the roof she collapses to her knees and just shakes. The most awful, most traitorous thing are the tears that beg to fill her eyes. She'd spent years mourning and weeping and somehow she'd honestly believed there were no tears left to shed.

"What did we  _do?_ " Her voice cracks and her lips tremble but she lifts her head to fix him with her distraught gaze. "Wh-what did they  _tell_  you that we did? Why do you-  _why do you want to Kill Us, Clark!?_ " The last part is a shout and Clark flinches for it.

"Kara, I..."

"I watched it, Clark. I watched Krypton  _explode_ ," the tears  _burn_  as they track down her cheeks. "I watched everything I love die. An-and you just-" humorless manic laughter, she manages to startle even herself with it. "You give children the means to  _kill us._ "

"It's not like that, Kara!"

"THEN WHAT IS IT LIKE!?"

"It's like a meteor shower in '89! All over Smallville! It's like a secret surprise inside the cereal box except the secret is a giant glowing rock I'd never seen before that  _poisons me!_  It's like, it, it's like I don't know how to get rid of it and even if I do someone somewhere will still find it, still find a way to hurt me or the people I love... Hurt  _you_."

She feels tired. Tired in ways that are nearly impossible. In the two weeks she's been learning her abilities she and the Danvers have yet to get a real chance of wearing her out, if such a thing is even doable...

"I have to go," she finds her feet and wipes at her face and gazes over the Metropolis skyline. It's almost pretty. "The Danvers will be waiting for me."

"Of course, and, uh," she's already lifted back into the air and really she has no reason to hesitate but, well, she does. "I'm sorry, Kara."

" _You should be._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last thing Kara says is in her lovely dead language. Here marks the beginning of Supermad! K long chapters are long ya welcome I'll start moving forward from here!
> 
> hey all you silly dorks out there viewing favorite-ing n shit, thanks lovelies! I'd hug you If I could, I'd kiss you if you let me, but not on the mouth don't make it weird get the fuggoutta here!


	4. Growing Pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara grows and things happen, most we're familiar with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been nearly three hours since i last updated this... Welp.

She has no love for English. It's a confusing bastard-child of a language made up of at least three other languages all slapped together sloppily and it's confusing. German and Russian make more sense to her, Chinese Japanese and Korean characters are easiest to read but Clark is an All American Man.

This is his land, English his language, hot red white and blue blooded Americans his people. He wouldn't know the struggles she'd have by lumping her with him, he wouldn't think to them. He'd think to his happy experience, forget his own struggles because it's easier. He wouldn't  _think_.

He is truly a Child of Earth.

And she  _despises_  English. She thinks Clark a fool for pursuing a career based on words. Well to be certain she thinks Clark a fool for many reasons and perhaps this is merely the least of them.

And then she happens across Cat Grant.

A chance interview airing on the television as she flips through channels - radio and television are excellent for helping her understand intricacies in this odd, rule-bound-but-fond-of-ignoring-rules language - catches her eye, captures her attention and.

_Endears_  her to this awful awful language. Worms a thought through her skull she's not yet aware of, a question a concern an observation -  _You can do that with just a few choice words?_

* * *

She doesn't hate humans. She doesn't particularly like them but hating them would require a depth of passion for them that she just lacks. There are humans she likes, dare she say, loves. Alleks being the first. Jeremiah. And of course Eliza.

(And Cat Grant but she doesn't know the woman to love her so it doesn't count!)

But the race as a whole she's incredibly neutral about. The exhausting effort Clark puts forth as Superman to constantly save as many of them as he can is just. She respects what he's trying to do. Helping others isn't something she'll sneer at, it's a difficult honorable thing but. She still wishes he hadn't prioritized that over her.

Wishes he hadn't decided she would be too much too difficult without first even  _trying_. Wishes he'd stop parading around with  _her_  crest. Wishes he'd call or visit. Wishes he would bite back when she finds him to snap like she had over his ruining their chances of a Kryptonian rebirth.

He'd killed General Zod. Zod had survived, against all logical thought he'd survived and Clark had  _killed him_. There were, supposedly, other Kryptonians that had survived but they'd also been  _dealt with_. She wishes she didn't burn with hatred for him but as time passes and she learns, she cannot stifle it. So much he'd done for humans at the expense of his dying race.

It was cruel.

And so she hates him and so she grows.

* * *

Jeremiah is taken one night. By a man that smells like stardust. She commits his voice to memory, spies him through the floorboards and remembers his face and a smell like that, so terribly rare and decidedly Not Human, it's already unforgettable.

Jeremiah is taken and the Danvers are distraught and when she is begged to play human, she decides to play smarter. If Alex - she still laughs to hear Kara call her name, that hard emphasis on the last bit of it making it sound strange and foreign when to her it all starts out as such - is on her mother's side then Alex cannot know.

They move.

They attend school.

And Kara begins to nurture a dislike of babies. If humans are children, the children of children must be babies. Loud messy smelly things that babble incessantly and spew all sorts of filth as often as possible. They're fascinated with her. Annoyingly so.

Under Earth's sun her hair yellows and her skin tans and her body strengthens and grows and they watch. Horny males no better than leg humping dogs. Snide females that'd find it more comfortable to level a rifle at her head for all they hiss about her. And Alex who is fierce and good and a welcome reprieve.

Alex who doesn't Whisper and doesn't Look. Who mutters and stews because she is young and human and cannot help it.

* * *

Alex smells like stardust.

It's a Thanksgiving - a holiday she decidedly lives for - break and Alex visits from college and Kara knows that smell. That inhuman smell that Alex cannot and should not smell like. Tragically human as she is.

And Kara isn't sad. The loss of Jeremiah will be one they all carry but it is a most manageable weight, especially in light of all else she's ever lost. Besides, Eliza is no fool and she thinks his death is suspect.

So Kara isn't sad to catch that scent wafting from her sister. Alex is young and human but still strong and able to make her own decisions walk her own path. Kara only bothers to take her aside after dinner before their usual Thanksgiving marathon of Golden Girls to have words,

"Alex." She catches her with hands on either of her shoulders, steady grounding hands that Alex finds amusing. She smiles and glances to them, reaching up to try and lightly curl her fingers around Kara's forearms as she returns,

"Kara?" But with a lilt of question in her tone and a cock of one brow.

"You know I support you in your endeavors," her other brow joins its twin somewhere high on her forehead. "And that I trust you explicitly, correct?"

"Uhh, yeah?"

"Good. I appreciate you. You're smart and capable and resilient. I'm proud of you every day that I breathe." And if they hug and Alex wipes away tears behind her back she says nothing for being able to smell the salt of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reason Alex had to try to curl hands around arms is because Kara is buff. I'm going on the idea that Kryptonians are large. Tall and broad. Give me a race of super buffs pls.


	5. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ass made between two beings. 
> 
> Or,
> 
> 'Hank' makes assumptions and Kara 'Danvers' makes some back. Fifty points to Slytherin if ya can find out who's better at it.

"Well!" She affects surprise and smiles so wide because she can hear him suck his teeth at her. "And who might you be?"

He's not amused.

"I believe you know who I am, Miss Danvers-"

"Please call me Kara," she will always appreciate the Danvers. Until she takes her very last breath she will. But she is  _Not_  that,  _them_. Not now. Not yet. She can't be, isn't ready to just. She can't. Not now not yet. "And I know what you call yourself."

He's even less amused, if it's possible. Such a serious man such severe features why he could almost be Kryptonian! But, oh, poor boy isn't. Ah, or should she say man?

_Or should I say Martian?_

"And," when he says nothing but crosses his arms and waits and eyes her with something like disdain, she cannot help the way she just beams. "I know you smell like the stars."

"You're standing out too much-"

"Not like my cousin in his tights and red yellow blue, hmmm?" She can hear his teeth grind. "What have I done besides act Hometown Hero to these soft humans?"

"Dragging three fully grown men from a burning building is-"

"I'm on the football team, I lift weights, and I was overtaken by pure adrenaline." She ticks these facts off on her fingers and tries to tame another smile. "Really, Hank, you think I can't cover my bases? They're too grateful to press deep. I played sore for a few days and it's like it never happened!"

Except, of course, for the gratuitous hero worship she's subjected to. Not that she's complaining. It feels good to be revered. It feels  _right_.

"You've been flying after dark again."

"Don't tell me you've only just recently realized it?"

"Miss Danvers-"

"Oh and that reminds me! How is Alex doing?" He's shocked. And then calm controlled thinly veiled furious.

"She told you." It's an assumption, not a question. And she smiles,

"She didn't. She smells like stardust. Like  _you_. You must be training her personally, yes?" The low shriek of teeth on teeth is her answer. "Why  _did_  you offer her that position, I wonder? It can't just be because she's more than qualified for it, no no that's too much coincidence. So it has to be me?"

She waits until he goes to speak and chooses that moment to interrupt with a faux gasp, as though a sudden thought had struck her,

"Or could it be, because of Jeremiah?" 


	6. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time continues to flow and she continues to grow. In good ways, always in good ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When i post this, the number of views will still be my lucky number. Too bad it won't last

"We've got to stop meeting like this." There's an old quarry she frequents for fun and tests of strength. It's private and secluded and she'd hear anyone approaching for miles and miles.

She'd heard him approaching.

"You're graduating soon." Always the conversationalist.

"I am. It's. Exciting, I suppose." As exciting as things get here without sticking her nose into trouble.

"What will you do after?" And what a curious, loaded question.

"I'd thought to travel. I wouldn't need to pay for airfare-"

"I'd like you to join the DEO." She understands, comprehends what he's just said but. But she just stares and blinks slow and,

"Pardon?"

"I'd like you to consider joining the DEO."

Oh that time was a little more polite! Good on him. She smiles and it doesn't feel friendly despite her amusement.

"Oh? And what would you have me do-OH WAIT, hmmm, I  _wonder._ " and the smile curls and splits and he is so very far from amused. He goes to speak and she continues,

"So I'd join your little,  _thing_ ," she will not dignify him the acknowledgement of that organization he roped Jeremiah  _and_  Alex into. "And, what? Live, work,  _thrive_  there?" A chuckle, the amusement is gone the humor is entirely lacking. "Like Jeremiah-"

"You cannot hold that over me, that was  _your_  doing-"

"And Alex knows he still lives?" Teeth shrieking as they grind over each other. "You try  _so very hard_  to protect these ungrateful aliens, spend  _so much time_  lying to them. You'd ask me to do the same? My, but aren't you  _bold_."

" _He_  helps."

And she'd turned her back, more harsh laughter breaking into the air when he says this. She'd turned her back and she stops dead, the air freezing in her lungs and it tastes hot and coppery like human blood and burning resentment.

He  _helps_.

He is the  _Hero of Man_.

He is Kal-El, Clark Kent,  _Superman_.

When she unlocks her jaw, the coldest lowest hiss summons itself from somewhere deep, slipping past her lips,

"He is a  _traitor_. As much an alien as these Homo sapiens. As much as  _you_."

Today is not a good day for the quarry, she decides, decisively ignoring the very weak gravitational pull tickling across her skin to lift herself into the air,

" _And what does that make you, Kara Zor-El?_ "

* * *

She tries college.

* * *

Her fondness for humans is not a sudden thing. It's something slow and secretive. Something that slithers and drips until one day she finally notices a sugary sweet taste in her mouth for them.

Her fondness is not sudden but it's very unwelcome.

More unwelcome is the understanding it brings with it, for  _Him_.

Fondness and understanding aside, there's still a distinct lack of forgiveness.

* * *

She's found a favorite thing. Something she should decidedly hate,

Humans at parties. Wild and unhinged and utterly raw. Full of their favorite poisons and true to their passions. It's animal and beautiful and utterly entertaining. And to be certain there are still outliers and exceptions, the incredibly violent and forceful. Even those are of interest, just.

She keeps an eye on them. Removes them if they prove incapable of interacting safely with other individuals.

She'll have no brutes in her Menagerie.

* * *

A young man disappears in her years there.

His body is not found. His body will  _never_  be found.

It is her only regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been listening to a lot of Last Podcast on the Left. And chick music. And beer lots an lots of beer.


	7. Want Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes a little bit of self indulgence is acceptable.

She does not intend to ever repeat The Mistake.

She practices.

* * *

They're so  _soft_.

It's kind of intoxicating. In the strangest way. It feels perverse but that could all be on her, in her head on her mind thrumming through her veins with every heavy thud of her heart.

Being around them makes her feel incredible. Absolutely powerful.

They're beneath her, where they belong where they always belong, but indulging in their incessant need to be intimate to be touched and coddled and.

It's  _almost_  entertaining.

* * *

Control is something she feels should come easy. She's not human not prone to their outbursts. Still, control is almost literally in her blood but she finds herself tempted in the worst moments.

The human gestation period is most inefficient but the mating process is admittedly fun.

Sometimes though, when she's threaded one hand through silken hair to palm a warm head and feel that hummingbird heartbeat -  _and she could crush this head_  - beneath her fingertips, when she's bruising an imprint of her fingers with the grip she's got on one hip while hers snap and grind and punish forward

Besides that heart pounding, breathtaking knowledge she could crush this bird-fragile creature, there's the urge to lose it willingly.

_Just a little._

She could just sink her teeth into this until it  _squealed_ and _squirmed_  and  _Blood_ **filled** her _Mouth_  and

Control in those moments is hard. She's barely conscious of the heady wave of wild desire until she's all but succumbed to it and she rises from the depths gasping and sweating and it's the only time she's ever out of sorts.

And maybe there's something to playing human after all.

* * *

She does travel, after graduation of course.

A year.

More.

Time passes and she watches it from wherever she pleases and there is something like peace in her. She is content. Sometimes she's alone.

Usually she's alone.

She tries photography.

She's got no talent for it but when she does happen across humans it's a convenient, believable excuse.

* * *

_Astra_.

* * *

"If I can be honest? I've missed our conversations, Hank."

And yes, she  _is_  being honest. He's got the advantage of alien blood and that makes him more than tolerable.  _Oh!_  And she's missed that special shriek of his teeth grinding. Human music is enjoyable but teasing Hank is true joy.

"What do you want, Danvers." It doesn't bother her. Not like it used to.

It's easy to smile beautifully like her baby cousin, tuck some hair behind her ear and croon,

"I was in the neighborhood, looking to buy a home. Found myself wondering if any neighbors would ever be willing to... spare a cup of sugar." He does not smile but she won't let that stop her.

"What do you want?" So serious.

"What do you need?" He'll just grind those teeth to dust!

"From you, nothing. I have enough trouble without you-"

"Oh  _Hank_ , you wouldn't meet me so often, so easily, for  _nothing_. Come now, be honest, I have been. What, do you  _need?_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I last updated. So. Here ya go.


	8. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Earth is... Ok.

He should throw her in a cell. He says so often enough. She agrees, wholeheartedly. She says so just as often and to his very grim face. She wonders if that's all him or just the skin he wears.

It's not ugly, not even unpleasant. It's a handsome face it's just  _so_  severe.

Well he'd love to lock her away and she delights in antagonizing him but he'd never do it and they both know that. He loves Alex. She knows he does she can see it she can tell. He's more human than he looks.

But business with him is.

Well, Alex will find out soon. And then they can be close again, closer anyway, not as though she'd ever allow those she claims as her own to stray too far. Not like

She's found a nice little place to live.

More than that, she's found a nice little place to love and work in.

Well perhaps she's working on the second part.

But she won't let this chance pass.

* * *

Oh, if her Hero could be less impressed!

She shouldn't adore it, the way eyebrows cock above reading glasses, the sour puckering purse of Her lips. The up and down slow, judging crawl of Her eyes. It's all very pleasing to her. Straightens and steels her spine, sharpens her own smile.

She says nothing at first, maybe an attempt to agitate nerves. It won't work. She admires this woman as much as one such as herself can admire a human. Nothing will stop her from leaving an excellent impression of herself, nothing will stop her from getting this job.

"You're name is," She loudly shuffles paper, squints at them and cuts Her eyes up and down and back and forth just a few times. As if She didn't know this information, didn't know every single unqualified waste that'll intrude upon Her sacred office space. "Kera."

Oh! That's delicious. It's, it's delightful it's.

She smiles and it feels  _truly_  warm.

* * *

There's a young man, a sweet smart little human that just  _adores_  her.

He's positively delectable and she might be forgiven for pretending to be blind to his affections. Not for his sake, oh no, though if she were kinder... She loves to watch him squirm, loves to tease him in the sweetest ways she'll never tease Hank.

Besides that he's  _so very_  cute and she just wants to taste him.

She waits only a few months before telling him of her blood. It's too much, she knows. She's never  _needed_  to... It's not a need for him to know even, it's...

Tasty precious thing that he is, he's  ** _more_**. He's dedicated. It's more than worship with him and it endears him to her. She can hardly help it. He's deserved it more than any other. Dedication should and shall be rewarded.

He doesn't breathe a word of it.

* * *

Astra would love to rule them.

She thinks it's a foolish idea.

One being, though it is most usually human, struggles to successfully run just a small amalgamate of provinces, states, counties, countries - an entire world? More than that, a world populated almost entirely by humans?

There's no sense to it. Let the beasts have their little arguments, let them rot and ruin and burn the world asunder. She likes their legends and myths and gods more than she likes them.

A Phoenix and it's ashes, yes?

* * *

She doesn't mean to laugh. She really truly honestly doesn't.

It's not even funny, she hardly has a sense of humor! It's just. Alex. Her, her face twists just so and she looks so strange so.

She laughs, very sharp and sudden and she can't help it can't stop it.

The room is lined with kryptonite and more than feeling it even when she isn't supposed to, she can smell it. Clark had been surprised but Clark had been raised entirely on this planet. He knew the smells and sounds and sights of this place and  _only_  this place.

She had been many places, but her home had been Krypton.

She knows The Smell of it very intimately. The richness of its soil the ripe scent of its core. Kryptonite smells like home. It'll always smell like home.

Alex and Home.

It's good. And she puts her elder sister in her place. Beneath her. Always beneath her.

Astra may be just this side of delusional but her combat prowess hasn't lessened in the least. And if Astra is good for one thing, well, the least of it is the passing of knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been binging MST3K and I'm real hecked on wine WooooooooOOOOOOOOO no but seriously ya girl real drunk, thanks for checking me out I don't really do that much ;*


	9. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calms and storms

"Ah, Kara could I... Could I ask you something?" Humans did few things well. Food was one of them. She might prefer they put an ounce of effort into scientific achievements or perhaps unraveling their genetic code so they could modify it as easily as her people had done for themselves but.

The food was something. A start.

"Of course dear," he flushes so pretty when she calls him that. The brightest splotches of it blooming on his cheeks and crawling outwards. He is  _adorable_.

"Umm. An-and I don't really  _mean_  this to be judging or, I just, I've been thinking lately, ahh," when she keeps eye contact he stutters and she must be a vicious thing to enjoy upsetting his emotional balance so much. Oh but she's really quite kind, hides her smile with a liberal, slightly messy bite of lo mein and shifts her eyes away.

She can still see the tension leave his shoulders in the slightest droop.

"Why don't you help people like your cousin?" He let it out in a single breath and if he'd said it any faster it might've come out as a single word.

It's good he knows her now. A few years earlier and that question might have set her off. Now she chews and swallows, sets down her chopsticks to fold her hands together and tuck them under her chin. It's a good question, one that'd even crossed her mind quite frequently.

Mother had wanted her to. To be a shining, golden godlike savior to these soft bodies. But Mother allowed their planet to die, had sent her own sister into the Phantom Zone to  _let_  it die. Mother had sent her there, no matter how unintentional. Mother had been and had done wrong.

She refuses to speak to that damnable AI that wears Mother's face. It's simply too much.

"Mm, I help where I can," she admits at length, laughs softly and continues, "But I don't really feel the need to police this planet the way Clark and the  _leagues_  of crime fighting vigilantes out there do. Human beings were doing quite fine well before me or mine showed up, don't you think?"

She offers him a pretty smile and he. Doesn't turn completely red. It's an unusual reaction for him.

"You can do  _so much_ ," it's not, annoying, per se. He's just young and curious and full of good intentions.

Like an emergency escape pod into the Phantom Zone.

She stares him down for long seconds, the kind of pointed look that couldn't pose a greater threat if she'd burned a literal hole through his skull with the heat the yellow sun imbues her with. He shifts and that red she adores begins to stain his cheeks once more. And finally,

"I do enough."

He does not bring it up again.

* * *

She asks for little of Hank.

He asks for little of her.

The occasional help on particularly vicious aliens... Not much else really. He doesn't trust her as far as he can throw her. Though she might be willing to bet he could throw her rather far indeed.

But she does ask of him and he does ask of her. And what she wants? Well, it's not much. Just a lead lockbox of kryptonite. It's rightfully hers to begin with, and he does give her quite a strange look when she requests it but he does relent. Eventually. 

It's only green and that's frustrating. There are  _so many others_  out there, Clark had confirmed and she. She wants them. Wants to know where they are at all times. Wants them safe, under her lock and key. Wants to indulge in moments of near poisoning just to catch a whiff of home.

Wants to know how to neutralize their various affects on her anatomy so she might never be taken advantage of.

Astra wants the same.

They make a good team. Sometimes,  _sometimes_ , she's almost thankful Mother sent her sister away. If she hadn't, oh if she hadn't...

* * *

She's very good at her job. Not that it's a difficult job in the first place, though to others it might seem... Daunting, to say the least. Pleasing Cat Grant is not a feat many are capable of. Perhaps enough to count on one hand.

Even she fails to rise to the occasion  _every_  time.

It's good, refreshing. The job isn't difficult physically or mentally really but it does push her. She doesn't mind being pushed. And of course she gets to dote on her precious boy every day! Winn is so pretty, even if he's a bit tiny.

Well. To be certain most of them are miniscule compared to her.

She doesn't mind. He doesn't seem to either. He just blossoms under the attention. Cat almost remembers his name! It's good. Things are good. She's.

Happy.

* * *

A plane falls from the sky and she catches it. It's not her place to but she does. She will not lose Alex. She refuses to lose another, not now not ever again.

An impossible feat, maybe.

She guides it back to the airport and leaves before anyone can get a clear photo or video or snap or whatever human media of her. It's easy. It's not her first time hefting something as heavy as a plane. She keeps Hank provided 'stealth clothes' for spontaneous low profile missions and they do the lion's share of keeping her face from the front page.

Winn wants her to fight crime.

Hank wants to strangle her for all but exposing herself.

Alex is the same but Alex still hugs her and barely sniffs back tears.

She's happy just to hold this soft body, to plant kisses and her chin on top of its crushable head. This is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And nine chapters in I finally made it to the show!! Woooooooo it's all downhill from here.


End file.
